"Left! Right! Left! Right! Halt! Ten-shut!"
"Salute!"
To his credit, faced as he was by the exposed, steak-knife fangs of Shakkar, the guard did not tremble. He maintained a rigid pose of attention, despite his pale face. He was short but stocky, and his chest protruded like a ship's prow.
"Private Embral, reporting as ordered, Sir!” he yelled.
"Off cap… stand at… ease!” Erik, shouted the last word in an almost a falsetto squeak. Embral adjusted his position; his feet now apart by the width of his shoulders and his arms behind his back. Shakkar felt puzzled by the term ‘stand at ease'-the guard appeared anything but relaxed.
"You are attached to the Gate detail, I understand, Private?” Shandimar said in a bored voice.
"That's right, Sir! Third watch, midnight ‘til seven, Sir!” the man yelled at a volume phenomenal from such a short person.
The Colonel winced, and rubbed his brow. “All right, Private; stand easy."
The hapless man relaxed his stance-just a little. His eyes still stared ahead, and his attention seemed to be focused entirely on the wall behind Shandimar.
"Do you know why you are here, Private?"
"No, Sir!” The slight hesitancy in the watchman's words implied to Shakkar either falsehood or unease. The demon had dealt with many humans in his time, and he could often tell wariness or deception when he heard it.
"Good.” Shandimar consulted his notes. After a few moments’ rumination, he looked up again.
"Relax, Private, you're not on trial here. We are just investigating an incident that may or may not have taken place, and all we want is a few truthful answers from you. You have not been singled out in any way-do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir. I think so, Sir,” the sentry gabbled. “I sort of guessed as much when I saw the other-"
"That'll do, Private!” Erik snapped, his face red. “'Yes, Sir’ is quite enough; we don't want your bloody life story! The next thing you-"
Shandimar waved his right hand. “Thank you, Sergeant. Private Embral, can you state that, to your certain knowledge, the Main Gate was not opened at any time during your watch?"
"No, Sir… I mean, yes, Sir.” The soldier's wary gaze flicked between the Colonel and the Sergeant. “I mean, it wasn't opened at all, Sir! Me an’ Volan was there all the time, Sir, and it wasn't never opened, Sir!"
Erik opened his mouth to speak again, but Shandimar silenced the Sergeant with a sharp look.
"Now, that's not quite true, is it, Private? I'm afraid Private Volan's testimony does not agree with yours.” The senior officer's tone was deceptively mild.
The soldier's eyes bulged, as if he knew he had been caught out in a lie. “I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Sir!” he protested.
Shandimar consulted his voluminous notes once more. “Private Volan's statement claims that you were not present for the whole of your assigned watch, Private. It states that you vacated your post at approximately five minutes past two this morning, and were absent from your post for thirty minutes or so. What do you have to say about that, Private?"
Embral's eyes narrowed. “That bastard, Volan, said that? I'll bloody kill him! I'll nail the sod to the freakin’ floor! I'll-"
The Sergeant's brows lowered, and he screamed “Just answer the Colonel's question, Private! Were you or were you not absent when you were supposed to be on duty?"
The wretched guard shuffled on his feet. “Well, Sir, I'd ‘ad this bad meat pie, and I just ‘ad to go an’ relieve meself, see…"
Erik surged to his feet, pointing at Embral with an accusing finger. “You dare give us the lie to our faces? We know bloody well where you were, sonny boy! Thirty-two, Candle Street! Do I need to say any more?"
The guard slumped, and his once-taut face hung in slack folds.
"I'm sorry, Sir,” he whispered, looking to Shandimar for succour that did not come. “See, me an’ Volan… we-"
"You deserted your bloody post!” Erik screamed, bouncing on his toes. “You left the cussed gate half unguarded an’ risked some light-fingered trollop makin’ off with your bloody key! I ought to-"
"Is this true, Private?” Shandimar seemed to be in the mood for interruption today, as he fixed the wriggling man with a stern gaze. “The truth, now!"
Embral regarded the Colonel with pleading eyes. “I did go to… that place, Sir,” he whispered. “But I didn't dare risk me key, Sir, I swear! Please believe me!"
"How so, Private?” Shandimar demanded. “How do you know your joy-girl didn't take it off you while you were… otherwise engaged?"
"Because I got Private Ludin to stand in for me, Sir!” Embral's face was suffused with red. “He owes me a favour, so I called him up an’ gave him me key, Sir! Didn't that bastard-sorry, Sir-didn't Private Volan tell you that?"
"That'll be all, Embral.” The Colonel's eyes were like slits. “You're on report, and I'll let Sergeant Erik decide your punishment. Just count yourself bloody lucky that I don't convene a court-martial right now! I could have your head for this. The next time I hear of anything like this, your feet won't touch the ground! Is that understood? I asked you a question, Private! Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!"
"Report to the Stockade, Private!” Erik snapped. “I'll deal with you later, you little sod! You'll rue the bloody day you were born, I promise you! On cap! Ten-shut! Salute! About turn! Double… march!"
The Private sped from the room as if his feet were on fire.
Shakkar growled, “I do not think much of your so-called guards, Colonel. That is the third man to own up to absenting himself from his post; to admit to whoring or carousing during his duty period. How many others have managed to escape without incriminating themselves?"
"With all due respect, Lord Seneschal,” Shandimar drawled. “I don't think that's the point. Yes, these men have flouted their duty, and they will be punished for it. However, in mitigation, each of the absent sentries persuaded a fellow watchman to stand in for him. At no time was the Tower, or the Gate, left unguarded. Whatever else we know, Lady Drexelica did not leave the city by normal means, which leaves-"
"Sorcery,” the demon hissed. “Some magic-user has spirited her away."
"Why? Any ideas, Sergeant?"
"Me, Sir?” Erik scratched his forehead, as if this might stimulate his powers of thought. “Perhaps some mage has a grudge against Lord Grimm and took the lady by mistake, Sir."
Shakkar shook his head. He knew Lady Drexelica and Baron Grimm were lovers, but he ensured that the fact had been concealed from most of the populace of Crar, knowing the dim view the Guild took of its mages consorting with females.
"I will impart information to you; information that must not leave this room,” he said. “I wish you to swear on whatever you hold most dear that you will not breathe a word of it to anybody else."
"I swear in the name of the One God that I shall never repeat what you tell me,” Shandimar intoned, raising his right hand in affirmation.
"I swear on the grave of my mother that I won't say a thing, Lord Seneschal,” Erik said, his face solemn.
Shakkar cleared his throat. “Lord Grimm and the Lady Drexelica are… very good friends,” he muttered.
Erik frowned. “Is that all? Then why did the Lord Baron…"
"The Guild does not approve of such relationships,” the Seneschal snapped. “It would be the worse for our Baron if such news were to become common knowledge."
"Then this might not be a mistake,” the Colonel said. “This rogue mage may be striking directly at Lord Grimm."
"Perhaps not a mage, Colonel,” Shakkar said. “Perhaps this is an act of Geomancy: witch magic."
Shandimar shrugged. “I have met many witches in my time, Lord Seneschal, all honest, decent women as far as I can tell. In addition to their good characters, none of them could hope to compare to a Guild Mage in terms of power. What kind of witch could or would do such a thing?"
"A very powerful and evil one, Colonel.” Shakkar felt suspicion coalescing into a solid lump of certainty inside him. “I suspect her name is Prioress Lizaveta, and Lord Grimm is on his way to her demesnes as we speak. Lady Drexelica, no doubt, has been taken as some kind of hostage; we must warn the Baron somehow."